


Extended Family

by FriendLey



Series: Family Get Togethers [3]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, F/M, Family Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-02-08 15:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18626140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FriendLey/pseuds/FriendLey
Summary: Morgan spends time with what remains of her dad's family.A follow up to Meet the Family and Welcome to the Family that you didn't ask for but I'm writing anyway because I need it for therapeutic purposes.





	1. Santa

Morgan was hiding under the kitchen table when _he_ came inside the house.

His footsteps were heavy and the kitchen seemed to shake with every step of his shoes. For a moment, he made Morgan forget the presence of so many strangers all over the house.  

He was big and tall... And hairy. 

Her eyes grew wide in recognition.

Morgan stuck the juice pop in her mouth, clenched her teeth so that it wouldn't fall out, and then quietly crawled halfway out from under the table to confirm her suspicions.

The hairy giant was grumbling, opening the refrigerator and the cupboards. 

"Where does he keep it?" he muttered. 

Morgan took the juice pop out of her mouth and asked, "Keep what?"

The hairy giant whirled around, his eyes scanning the room for the source of the voice. 

He probably couldn't see her with such a big belly blocking his view of the floor.

Morgan decided to crawl out fully. She stood and the hairy giant regarded her with an inquisitive glance. 

Morgan stared at him too.

"You must be Starksdottir." When not grumbling his voice boomed. 

"You Santa?" Morgan asked, eyes resting on the beard and trailing down to his belly.  

"What's a Santa?"

"He's round and hairy and flies around and gives gifts to good children but not to naughty ones." 

Hairy Man considered that and then shrugged, "I fly around and destroy naughty people with my hammer and axe."

Morgan nodded approvingly. "Then you _are_ Santa. ‘Cause daddy says Santa has a workshop too and I know there's a hammer and axe in there."

Santa hummed and then he hungrily eyed the juice pop in Morgan's hand. 

"What's that?"

"A juice pop."

"Do you have any more?"

Morgan nodded and then walked over to the refrigerator. The freezer was way too high for her to reach. Daddy usually carried her. So, she turned back to Santa and raised her arms at him.

Santa looked at her, crouched and then brought his hands over to _her_ hands in a high-five. 

Morgan giggled. "No! Not a high-five! Carry me!"

"Oh! Why didn't you say so?" Santa lifted her up easily and settled her in one arm. 

Then Morgan pulled the freezer door open. "What color you want?"

"What color's good?"

"Red is strawberry and that's my favorite."

"I'll have that one then."

Morgan took out the red juice pop and Santa swung the freezer door closed. 

He set her over the surface of the table and Morgan handed him the pop.

"You have to cut out the top to open it," she told him. 

Santa grinned, said, "No need" and simply pulled it off. 

Morgan's eyes widened. "You're strong!"

"I am," Santa agreed shamelessly. "You will grow to be one too if you eat what I eat."

"What do you eat?"

"Pop tarts, beer, Cheez Whiz—"

Morgan brightened. "I like Cheez Whiz too!"

"Then you're on your way, little one."

Santa stuck the juice pop in his mouth and made an approving sound. "I like this. It's sweet. And cold."

Morgan smiled, her feet swinging as they dangled off the table. 

"What were you doing under the table?"

Morgan shyly lowered her eyes. "Hiding."

"Why were you hiding? Was someone coming after you?"

She shook her head sadly. "No. I'm shy."

Santa’s mismatched eyes grew distant and wistful. "My brother was shy too. Always hid behind Mother's skirts or hid in the shadows... Or behind a glamour." 

Morgan looked up. If Santa had a shy brother maybe he and Morgan could play together. "Where is he?" She looked around. Maybe he was better at hiding than Morgan was. 

"He's dead."

Wasn't that what they said about Daddy too?

She took one of Santa's hands in her little ones. "My Daddy's dead too. Maybe they're playing together."

Santa began to laugh. "Oh, you're father won't like that. Loki can be very mischievous. But perhaps Stark’s afterlife might not be so boring with Loki for company.”

Morgan put her the juice pop down on the table. "Done!"

Santa quickly finished his too and put it right next to hers. 

"What do we eat next?" he asked excitedly, rubbing his hands together.

Morgan pursed her lips in thought. "Cheeseburgers?"

The mere mention of cheese got Santa's attention. "Is that like Cheez Whiz?"

Morgan giggled but shook her head. "It's bread and cheese and patty. Burger King is my favorite."

Santa straightened up and lifted Morgan again. "Then you must introduce me to the Burger King. He and I might get along. I am a King, you know." He began to walk out the kitchen. "Though not for much longer. I am thinking of passing the crown and making my friend Queen."

"Like Mommy?"

"I didn't know your mother was a Queen. No wonder your father listened to her." Santa stepped out to the front porch and seeing the people gathered there who had begun to stare at the unexpected duo, Morgan immediately hid her face in the crook of Santa’s neck. 

Santa simply ignored the staring faces and went on his way, sauntering over the lawn.

"Your hair smells bad."

"That, my lady, is called beer. You should try it. I guarantee you'll grow."

"Where do you think you're taking her?"

Santa halted and Morgan resurfaced out from the tangled mess of hair and made a small wave at Happy. 

"We are off to see the Burger King to get a Cheez Whiz burger and a beer."

Morgan nodded happily and it must have been the toothy grin she wore that made Happy relent. 

"Get in the car. I'll drive."

"But Santa can fly!" argued Morgan. "Can we fly, Santa?"

Happy frowned. "Santa?"

"He has a hammer and an axe!" 

Happy's eyes widened. "Oh, no, no, no. You will not be taking her flying anywhere especially not with your current alcohol level. I'm driving. Get in the car."

"He's not very happy, is he?" Santa whispered to Morgan as they followed the man. "We should give him a different name. Or a beer. Yeah, let's get him a beer."

Morgan nodded in agreement. She wouldn’t mind trying a beer. Maybe she’ll be as strong as Santa.


	2. Nebula

A small form ran past the gathered guests at Tony Stark's wake.

It was the most interesting thing to have happened since the battle--Morgan Stark running.

She was usually glued to her mother's side or to Happy's, eyes avoiding everybody else's because she didn't know these people, and she didn't know why there were so many in the house when it was usually just her dad and her mom, sometimes Harley.

But for the first time since she found out Daddy wasn’t coming back, her eyes had brightened upon seeing a figure walk in. She detached herself from her mother and ran. 

"You're back!" Morgan said, burying her face between Nebula's legs and wrapping her arms around them tight.

Nebula's mouth twitched. Almost a smile. 

"You waited for me," said Nebula, a hint of a question in her voice.

Morgan looked up and nodded. "I miss you!"

Nebula cocked her head to the side, studying the little girl. What was it Stark had said about human responses?

"I....miss you....too."

Morgan smiled and Nebula felt a little too self-conscious. People were staring.

Even Drax.

She felt Morgan tug at her hand. "Come on, let's go play."

Nebula wordlessly let the girl lead her into the house, up the stairs, and into her bedroom.

Nebula had been in it before, when she made the occasional visits that Stark demanded she make.

The room looked the same; it still seemed very soft and innocent to Nebula—untainted. But there were some additions to the walls.

Drawings. A child's drawings.

Nebula stopped to take a look. There was one deformed drawing that must be Stark if the red and yellow are anything to go by. There was a green blob and...

Nebula's scanner zeroed in on the figure. 

A blue girl.

There was a small quirk of her lips as she turned away, storing the image in her memory drive. 

Around Morgan, Nebula could almost remember what it was like to be a little girl.

Almost. 

Morgan was bent over her toy chest and was rummaging through it all the while saying, "Daddy buy me a new toy when you were gone. It's fun."

Nebula knew what fun meant now thanks to Stark and his offspring. So, she settled herself on the tiny chair in the room, clasped her hands over the table and observed.

Morgan put the new toy over the table.

It was thick and strange. It was an awful color of green with numerous holes in which rodents were hiding inside.

Morgan held a tool in her hand not unlike a sledgehammer. 

She turned the toy on. Suddenly the rodents were bobbing up and down their holes and Morgan was hitting them over and over, shrieking in laughter as she tried to get them all. 

Nebula's chair scraped across the floor as she rose in surprise, staring at the toy. 

"What is it?" she asked, a scan already uploaded in her brain. 

"It's Whack-A-Mole," said Morgan simply. "You try to hit the moles and if you do, you get points."

Nebula knew what points were. She wanted points. 

"Give it to me," she said to Morgan, sitting back down and accepting the Whacker. 

The moles started rising up, one at a time and Nebula got the first four. Then the tone of the music changed, picking up in speed, and so did the rate at which the moles started appearing, one after another, and then two after two.

Soon, the moles were appearing faster than Nebula could hit them.

She swung the Whacker but missed. Nebula growled while Morgan giggled.

For some reason, Nebula never understood why the kid wasn't scared of her. She found Nebula's frustrations hilarious. 

And then the tune ended and Nebula was left blinking at what had just happened. 

Morgan was still laughing. "It's fun, right?"

Nebula simply stared at her, a competitive glean in her eye. "Again."

"Not yet. It's my turn!" said Morgan, taking the Whacker from her.

Morgan turned it on again and did a whole lot better than Nebula.

"12 points," Morgan said proudly.

"That little girl defeated you in a fight against rodents."

Nebula turned to see Drax, standing in the corner of the room as he laughed at Nebula. She hadn't even noticed he was there. 

Nebula made a threatening sound at the back of her throat which made Drax just laugh even harder.

"I'd like to see you try," she challenged him, her voice dropping dangerously low.

Drax stopped laughing and walked over to them. He sat in the other chair. 

Morgan handed him the Whacker.

The music began and the moles started appearing.

Drax hit one, and then another, and then another. He laughed triumphantly while Morgan clapped for him and Nebula glared.

Drax glanced smugly at Nebula. "My reflexes are too fast for these—" he missed one. 

Nebula grinned and Morgan squirmed in suspense.

Drax missed another.

"This is not possible," he muttered, his body growing tense. 

Nebula sat back and folded her arms in delight, glad she was not the only one who found the new toy difficult. 

For Terrans, they made pretty interesting tools for entertainment.

"AAARGH!" Drax stood and paced the room, glaring accusingly at the Whack-A-Mole.

"It's okay. You can try again," said Morgan soothingly. She looked at Nebula, "Do you want to try again?"

Nebula's eyes softened. She nodded. 

...

"You missed one. And another one."

"Shut up, Quill!"

"I am Groot."

"You're not helping."

Pepper and Rhodey exchanged looks as they got nearer to Morgan's room. They were entertaining politicians downstairs when they heard a strange scream coming from the second floor of the house.

The door to Morgan’s bedroom was already open and inside were the Guardians of the Galaxy... and Morgan.

They were gathered around her small table. Mantis was on the edge of the bed watching with rapt attention as she ate a plate of casserole, Quill was on the ground, fist pumping in the air, as he cried, "YOU CAN'T DO IT!" to his teammate.

Drax was laughing loudly in one of the chairs and Groot was cheering in another as Rocket stood on top of the table, wielding a toy hammer and hitting the moles as hard as his tiny hands could manage. 

It was a miracle the Whack-A-Mole was even still in one piece.

Rhodey nudged Pepper and pointed at a sight.

Morgan was on Nebula's lap, giggling and cheering at her new playmates.

Pepper smiled and motioned for Rhodey to come back down to the living room. 

Morgan was fine.

She'll be fine.


	3. Spider-Man

Peter halted in the middle of Tony Stark's driveway, his ears prickling at what his senses had just picked up.

He could hear various guests inside the house; from Avengers and wizards to top military generals, everyone came to pay their respects to Tony Stark.

But despite the chatter buzzing within those walls, Peter could hear something unmistakable.

"This is Daddy's friend from work, honey,” came Pepper’s voice. “Say 'hi.'"

Daddy?

"Hi."

Peter froze.

It was a little girl’s voice. Small. Shy.

He listened more intently.

He knew how to differentiate heartbeats now. An adult’s was far calmer than a child’s. And those rapid, strong pulses? That was a kid’s, alright.

"You coming?" asked May, looking back at Peter when she realized he wasn't following her up to the house. 

"He has a kid," Peter choked out, half-listening.

Mr. Stark—Tony, he reminded himself. They’ve been through a lot. He was Tony now—had a kid. And Tony was dead. 

Peter shook his head at his aunt. "I can't go in there." He hadn’t wanted to come in the first place.

May took a step forward. "Peter, what are you—"

"You go without me. I'll see you at home."

"Peter!"

But Peter had already started running.

…

Peter heard May come home even before the door to the apartment swung open. If he wanted to, he had plenty of time to hide and avoid the conversation he knew they were going to have.

But he had already avoided a whole wake today. He couldn’t avoid this too.

“Hey,” he called out from the living room couch as soon as May walked in.

“Hey.”

He heard her drop her bags, could feel her approaching.

And then she was right beside him on the couch. She put a hand on his arm and rubbed it soothingly.

They sat there in silence until Peter decided to ask, “How was the wake?”

“Sad,” said May, “But happy. You know, in that mixed feelings kind of way.”

Peter nodded, knowing exactly the kind of mixed feeling his aunt was describing. How could you be sad when Tony died saving everyone? But how could you be happy that the universe is in one piece when Iron Man wasn’t in it?

“They asked after you.”

Peter raised his head in interest.

“What’d you tell them?”

“That you weren’t feeling well.”

Peter huffed at the obvious lie. He had rapid healing. Everyone knew that.

May squeezed his hand. “They understand what you’re going through, Peter. Pepper understood.”

Peter shook his head in shame. He had no right to skip out on the wake. If anyone had the right to isolate themselves, it was Pepper…. And the little girl.

“He… Was… I heard that Mr—that Tony had a kid.” Had a life. Tony had a whole life for five years. And now he had none.

“Yeah. 4 years old. Her name’s Morgan. You’d like her.”

Peter looked at May and found a small smile on her face.

“What’s she like?”

May cocked her head in thought. “Brown eyes. Brown hair. Has her dad’s smile. A little bit shy, though. Wouldn’t leave Pepper’s side.”

“She must be confused.”

May nodded. “A little, but I think she understands that her dad’s not coming back. She’s smart.”

“Well, she _is_ Tony’s kid.”

May chuckled and so did Peter.

When their smiles had faded, May said, “You know you’re going to have to go to the funeral tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“You’re gonna meet her eventually.”

Peter glanced at May. “Is it weird that I don’t want to?”

“Why?”

“Because…” Peter could feel heat rise to his face in shame. His chest felt heavy as he blinked his eyes rapidly to stem the incoming flow of tears. That didn’t work though; a tear leaked out and Peter hid his face in May’s chest.

“Her dad’s dead,” he choked out. “Tony’s dead and it’s my fault.”

May wrapped her arms around her nephew. “Oh, Peter, honey, it’s not your fault.”

“It is!” Peter insisted, gripping May tightly. “If I had just been fast enough, I could’ve gotten the gauntlet, I could’ve snapped my fingers. I have accelerated healing. I would’ve survived it! But Mr. Stark was human! He couldn’t—there was no way—How can I look at his kid in the face knowing it was my fault her dad’s not coming back?” his next words were garbled and unintelligible.

May continued rubbing his back, small tears coming out of her own eyes. “Your suit was broken, Pete. You did what you could. Tony knew what he was gonna do, he knew what it would cost him. He wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.”

Peter lifted his head, wiping his tears. “I just… I feel like I don’t deserve to be there with his family.”

“ _You_ are his family too, Pete.”

Peter sniffled and sent his aunt a doubtful look.

“I told you. Everybody asked after you.” She paused. “Even Morgan.”

“What?”

“Pepper introduced me to her. She said I was your aunt. And Morgan knew who you were, Peter.”

Morgan knew who he was? Did that—did she—

“Spider-Man?”

“Not Spider-Man.” May took his hands and squeezed. “ _You._ She asked after you specifically, asked why her brother wasn’t there.”

Peter’s head started to throb. “Brother?”

“Turns out Tony had been telling her stories about you. And there’s apparently a picture of you in the house.”

Peter let out a breath. “I… I’m…”

“Like I said, you’re family to her, Pete.”

May rose, leaving Peter alone on the couch to think about _that_ revelation.

A small brown bag was suddenly thrust in his face.

Peter looked up.

“Pepper told me to give you this. It’s from Tony.”

...

Family.

Family.

Tony saw him as family.

Peter took a deep breath as he paced under Morgan’s bedroom window. Her bedroom light was on, telling Peter she was still awake at 8 in the evening.

His heartbeat was thundering in his ears, he could feel his muscles tense.

Oh, God.

He could do this.

He owed Tony this much.

He exhaled, shook his arms to get his icy blood flowing, got into a jumping stance and then—

“Spider-Man?”

“Shit!” Peter shrieked in surprise, jumping around. He had been so nervous he hadn't sensed anyone coming up behind him. 

A little girl stood looking at him. She was holding Pepper’s hand. They looked like they had just gotten back from an evening stroll if the girl’s blinking rubber shoes were anything to go by.

What was it May had said?

Brown eyes.

Brown hair.

Had Tony’s smile?

Now that he saw her, Peter definitely saw Tony in the girl's crooked smirk.

Yep. This was Morgan.

She was beautiful.

Morgan shook her head at him. “That’s Mommy’s word.”

Her mother laughed silently but stayed where they were.

“Hello, Spider-Man,” said Pepper, smiling knowingly at Peter. “Fancy seeing you here tonight.”

Peter was almost grateful he was wearing the new Spider-Man suit and that Pepper couldn’t see how red his face was. Then again, his mask was just as red.

He scratched the back of his head out of habit and chuckled nervously. “I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d stop by.”

“To see me?” asked Morgan excitedly, her feet dancing in excitement.

“Uhhh,” Peter glanced at Pepper who nodded subtly. “Yeah!” Peter took a couple steps forward, his courage growing.

“Did Daddy send you?”

Peter froze. Did Tony what?

“Um,” Peter looked at Pepper again who shrugged her shoulders this time. He was on his own, then. “No.”

The smile on Morgan’s face fell and she looked sad.

“He didn’t send me, but… but I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him. Your dad’s my hero. He saved my life.”

Morgan smiled at that. “He’s Iron Man.”

Remembering Tony’s last words, Peter’s voice shook a little, “Yeah, he is. He’s my favorite superhero.”

Morgan suddenly let go of her mom’s hand and walked towards him. She looked up at him and Peter didn’t know what else to do other than to crouch down to her level.

Morgan wrapped her arms around him. “I like Iron Man too. But y _ou’re_ my favorite!”

Peter awkwardly patted Morgan in the back whilst looking at Pepper. She had a misty look in her eyes and Peter knew if he’d stare at her longer, he’d be misty-eyed too.

Morgan pulled away and said, “Daddy tells me bedtime stories about Spider-Man. My favorite is The Lost Bicycle.”

Peter started to laugh. Of all the stories to tell his kid, Tony chose that one?

“Morgan, why don’t you invite Spider-Man in the house?”

Morgan reached up and took Peter’s hand. “Come on!”

Peter glanced around the house as soon as he took a step inside. It was cozy and it felt safe; he could almost imagine Tony working on that table, sitting on that couch, eating in the kitchen.

Peter sat himself on one of the kitchen chairs while Pepper made Morgan drink water.

“Do you want anything, Pet—Spider-Man?” The little slip from Pepper told Peter that Morgan didn’t know that Peter and Spider-Man were the same person.

Hmm. He’d had thought Tony would’ve told his kid.

Or maybe… maybe Tony thought it wasn’t his secret to tell. Or maybe he thought Peter might come back and tell Morgan himself.

Then again, there was a reason Peter came to the lake house wearing his suit, a reason why he hid his face under the mask.

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

Pepper nodded, looking between him and Morgan with a sad smile on her face. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me. Morgan?”

Morgan turned to her mother, mouth still on the glass of water she was drinking so suspiciously slow.

“I want that glass empty, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy.”

Pepper gave her daughter a knowing look and then left them alone.

Morgan finally drew the glass away and grinned at Peter. “I have to drink lots of water so I’ll grow.”

“Good idea.”

Morgan sat on the chair beside Peter’s, her glass of water forgotten on the table despite her earlier comment.

She gave Peter a pensive look and then said, “Are you afraid of frogs?

That was a random question. “What? No. Why do you ask?”

“Because frogs eat spiders,” Morgan said simply.

“Oh, well—”

“And lizards too.”

She asked him about other stuff, about what his favorite ice cream flavor was, what his favorite color was.

She reminded Peter of Ned a little bit, wide-eyed and enthusiastic to know everything there was to know about Spider-Man.

She wasn’t kidding when she said Spider-Man was her favorite.

It made Peter’s heart melt when she mentioned she had a Spider-Man stuffed toy in her room.

“Do you have spider friends? Can you speak to spiders?”

“No, unfortunately, I don’t have that power like Ant-Man.”

Morgan’s eyes widened. “Is Ant-Man your best friend?”

Peter figured he might as well nod. “Yeah. We help each other out sometimes.”

“What about Mantis?”

“Mantis? Oh, the green alien?”

Morgan nodded. “She’s awesome.”

“Yeah, she is. I wish _I_ had her powers.”

“But you have Spider Eyes! You can look at the bad guy and make them do whatever you want.”

Peter did a double take. Did he hear that right? “What? Who told you that?”

“Daddy!”

“Exactly what has your dad been telling you about me?”

It turned out Tony took advantage of the fact that Peter wasn’t around to refute him to tell Morgan some pretty outrageous bedtime stories that were founded on 10% truth and 90% creative license.

But Peter didn’t mind. Not when Morgan clearly enjoyed the stories so much. If that was all she would remember of her dad, Peter wasn’t going to break her bubble.

“You’re not scared of the Lizard-Man?”

Peter bit back his laugh and what came out was a snort. Lizard-Man? Where did Tony get all these stories from?

“No. He was pretty sticky, though,” said Peter, playing along.

He wondered if this was what it’d be like if he had been around for the past five years. Seen Morgan get born, played with her, pretended to be fighting a Lizard-Man…

Peter eyed the now-empty glass of water. “You done?”

Morgan nodded and Peter offered to put it away for her.

“Thank you,” said Morgan politely. There was still that excited look in her face, like she can’t quite believe Spider-Man was in her kitchen.

“You’re welcome.”

He spotted a framed photograph on his way to the sink.

He picked it up.

“That’s my big brother Peter and my Daddy. Peter’s not here though.”

Peter gripped the picture tightly.

Morgan already knew who he was. Knew who Spider-Man was. He shouldn’t hide from her anymore.

“Yes, he is.” Peter took his mask off and then turned around. “Hi, Morgan. It’s me. It’s Peter.”

Morgan’s mouth is a perfect O.  

“It’s nice to meet you,” Peter said lamely because what do you say when— “Oh!”

Morgan had come barreling into him, tiny arms once again wrapped around Peter.

Peter returned the hug, whispering, “I’m sorry I’m late, but I’m here now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cried writing this, jsyk.


	4. Grandpa Steve

Morgan picked her dress today. Mommy said she could.

She chose a purple one and put on her silver shoes with the pretty bow. She also didn’t forget her sling bag because Mommy always had one when she went out, so Morgan should have one too.

They were in the car for a pretty long time now.

Well, to Morgan it was a pretty long time.

Uncle Happy was driving and Morgan was getting tired of sitting in her car seat.

She shifted, turning to her mother. “Where are we going?”

“A birthday party.”

Morgan sighed dramatically which only earned her an amused smile from Pepper.

Of course Morgan knew they were going to a birthday party. Mommy told her so this morning.

“But _where_ are we going?” she rephrased.

Her mom thought for a minute and then said, “Upstate New York.”

“Where’s that?” Morgan knew she lived in New York but she had never heard of Upstate.

“It’s where Daddy used to work. You’ve never been there, but you’d like it. They have tents.”

Morgan’s eyes widened. Tents? Daddy used to work in tents?

“That’s awesome.”

…

Upstate New York didn’t look very nice. Half of it was broken and cement trucks were parked nearby. But the other half looked better, well sort of. Some of the broken stuff was being fixed and near the lake were a lot of really, really, _really_ big white tents, different from the one Morgan had at home. These ones had tall poles keeping them up and no tent flap to keep the flies out.

Morgan could hear music and laughter as they approached the better looking half.

She looked up at her mother, a question in her eyes, and Pepper smiled.

“I’m sure you’ll spot someone you know soon.”

Morgan doubted that. She never really knew anyone in Big People Birthday Parties. People knew _her_ but she didn’t know them.

They were greeted by a big boy by the entrance, nodding at each of them as they passed. “Mrs. Stark, Miss Stark, Mr. Hogan.”

“Pepper, Happy, glad you could make it!” said a funny looking man with sunglasses over his eyes. He had a glass of Big People Juice in his hand and walked funny.

Uncle Happy eyed him, unimpressed. “It’s not even noon, Sam.”

“It’s a special occasion. Besides, our man don’t turn a hundred every day!”

“He’s really a hundred now?” asked Mommy. “I can’t believe it.”

A hundred what? thought Morgan.

The man named Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. He went back to the past, went back to the future, feel free to do so, but I’m not gonna count.”

Morgan felt a little disappointment at not knowing more about that one hundred somethings. She tugged at her mom’s hand.

“He’s a hundred what?” she asked her.

Mom only smiled.

Sam crouched down to her level. “You must be Morgan.”

Morgan nodded.

“I’m Sam. Just Sam, please,” he turned to Uncle Happy. “Not Uncle Sam.”

Uncle Happy snickered but as to why, Morgan didn’t know.

Morgan turned to Sam and decided to ask him instead. “He’s a hundred what?”

“Pardon?”

“Who’s a hundred now?”

“Oh! The birthday boy! Come on! I’ll lead you to him.’” Morgan let him take her hand because he was a little funny even though she didn't know who he was. 

They went under a tent which was even bigger on the inside and were led to a table where an old man sat.

He rose when he saw them and Mommy kissed the old man on the cheek while Uncle Happy shook his hand.

Sam pushed Morgan forward and proudly said, “Morgan, this is your Grandpa Steve. Steve, it's a girl.”

Morgan frowned. “You’re not my grandpa.” She knew what Grandpa Howard looked like. He was also dead.

This Grandpa Steve chuckled. “No, I’m not. But I am _a_ grandpa.”

“Morgan, you were asking who’s a hundred, well, it’s him. Grandpa Steve is a hundred years old today.”

“Stop telling everybody that,” Grandpa Steve said to Sam.

He shook his head in embarrassment, while Morgan’s eyes widened and her mouth formed an O. “That’s old!”

Grandpa Steve chuckled. “Older actually, but I’m not counting.”

Morgan let go of Sam’s hand and walked closer to Grandpa Steve, inspecting him. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”

Grandpa Steve exchanged looks with Mommy and then smiled at Morgan.

“We met when you were… when I was younger. It was a long time ago for me, but probably not for you.”

“Will you tell me the story?” asked Morgan because ever since Daddy died, nobody’s stories ever came close. Mommy tried every night but she wasn’t as good as Daddy.

She batted her eyes for good measure because she knew Uncle Happy couldn’t resist that look and maybe Grandpa Steve couldn’t either.

Grandpa Steve chuckled and said, “It’s a pretty long story.”

“Daddy’s stories always are and they’re the best.” Morgan wrinkled her nose as she recalled, “His short stories are horrible.”

Everyone laughed. Even the ones she didn’t know but had lingered to watch them.

“Alright, alright.”

And before anyone could stop her, Morgan climbed up Grandpa Steve’s lap.

“It’s okay, Pep,” Grandpa Steve said to a concerned Mommy as he helped Morgan adjust herself on his lap. “I got her.”

…

Tearing Morgan away from Steve turned out to be quite harder than Pepper thought it’d be.

Pepper was crouched on the ground beside Steve’s chair, looking up at her daughter. “Morgan, you have to eat your lunch and so does Grandpa Steve.”

Morgan shook her head. “But he’s not done with the story!”

“He won’t finish it until he gets a rest.”

“But Captain America can do this all day!”

Pepper looked at Steve.

Steve grinned sheepishly.

Sam and Bucky laughed.

Steve turned to Morgan. “If you eat your lunch, I’ll get you a Capsicle and you can eat it while I finish the story.”

“A Capsicle?”

“It’s like a juice pop,” Pepper said, smiling excitedly.

“Okay! I want strawberry!” Morgan cried, jumping off Steve’s lap.

Pepper mouthed a ‘thank you’ at Steve who waved it away.

...

The Capsicle was very much like a juice pop except they didn't have a strawberry one and only have a blue one with a star on it. 

Morgan was fine with that too. She liked stars. 

Mommy said Daddy was a star now. 

She licked the Capsicle and got some on her nose. She giggled. 

Grandpa Steve gave her his napkin but Morgan shook her head. "I have one in my bag."

She handed him the Capsicle without another word and opened her sling bag. 

She took out a small packet of tissue paper; it had Spider-Man on the cover. She pulled out a piece and wiped her nose. 

"Do you want to know what else I have in my bag?" she whispered loudly to Grandpa Steve who nodded. 

She took out three pieces of hair clips and a comb. 

"Those are beautiful," said Grandpa Steve, smiling. He had a feeling she didn't show what was inside her bag to just anybody. And if he remembered correctly, she was a shy type.

"I couldn't choose which one to wear today because they're all my favorites and Mommy said we had to go, so I put all three in my bag. I think I like the star clip, now, because it's like the Capiscle."

"Good choice."

She clipped it onto her hair, not perfectly, mind you, but Steve found it endearing and decided he'd leave it as it was. 

…

Pepper and Happy stood at the corner staring at Morgan and Steve who were currently at the dance floor.

“Is he…?” asked Pepper.

“Carrying her on his shoulders?” supplied Happy. “Yep.”

“And he hasn’t…?”

“Gotten tired? He’s Captain America for a reason.”

“And his ass!” Pepper cocked her head to the side appreciatively.

Happy mirrored her. “He’s still got it, alright.”

…

“I think I have to sit down now, sweetheart. My legs are getting tired.”

Morgan nodded and helped Grandpa Steve back to his seat.

“Thank you for dancing with me and telling me a story. It was a very nice story.”

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry I couldn’t dance with you for long, though. When you’re as old as me, you get tired very fast.”

“Want me to get you a Capsicle?”

“No, thanks. I’d just like to sit down.”

Morgan nodded and climbed up the empty seat beside Grandpa Steve. She stared at him for a little while and then asked, “Are you gonna die soon?”

Grandpa Steve looked at her, confused. “What makes you say that?”

“Because Grandpa Howard is dead and Samantha’s Grandma is dead too. That’s why they couldn’t come to Grandparents’ Day and our mommies came instead. And Ms. Tina said when people are old they die. But Daddy wasn’t old and he died. So, are you gonna die?”

“I think I’ve still a got a good year or two left in me.”

“Will you go to Grandparents’ Day with me next year?”

“Ms. Stark, I think that’s a date.”

Morgan giggled. 


	5. Harley

"You ready, Mo?"

Morgan skipped across the threshold to Harley, hugging him tightly. 

Harley visited occasionally when he had time off from school and they were going to see the city today as per their Adventure Time schedule. 

Morgan stepped away shortly after, nodding her head and bouncing on the soles of her light-up rubber shoes clad feet. She was wearing rainbow leggings and a plain white shirt with a unicorn in the middle.

Unicorns and rainbows were her thing now. She wasn't gonna wear anything else  

"You sure you don't want to take a car?" came Pepper's question. She held Morgan's backpack in one hand and a pink cap in the other.

"I'm pretty sure if I did, Tony would roll over in his grave."

It took about a year, but they were finally in a place where they could joke about him.

Tony would want them to be laughing. 

Pepper laughed. "I'll handle it if he does."

"Anyway, it's gonna be traffic today what with Pride happening. Might as well take the train."

"Oh, yeah." Pepper fixed the cap over Morgan's head. "Looks like you chose your rainbow leggings wisely today, honey."

Morgan let her mom slip the bag around her arms next and then tugged at Harley. "Let's go! I wanna play on the train!"

"Do I need to be worried?" Pepper eyed Harley.

"Yeah, we're totally gonna hang off the back of the train like the guys in movies."

"Behave or I'll call Happy to babysit you two."

Harley laughed. "We'll be fine, Mom."

Years of friendship conducted through emails, rather annoying voice mails if you look at Tony Stark's phone history, and occasional visits to the Starks (especially when Harley's own family got dusted) allowed Harley the small honor of teasing Pepper and calling her Mom sometimes. 

Pepper waved the two kids out, half wondering if she'll regret leaving them to their own devices in New York City.

...

"I missed you so much!" said Morgan.

They were both standing on a packed train. They were playing a game about who would fall over first. 

So far, Harley was winning. 

"I missed you too, small fry."

Morgan giggled at the nickname and then squealed when the train came to a stop, her small body tipping over.

Harley grabbed her by the backpack to keep her from falling.

Morgan laughed again. "That's my favorite part."

"Are you even trying to stay upright?"

Morgan only grinned. 

They got out of the train, Harley holding her hand because this was still New York and she was also a Stark. 

She could wander off or someone could wander off with her tucked between their arm. 

There were probably SHIELD agents shadowing them too but Harley didn't want to count right now. Today was for an adventure.

He told himself he was gonna do all of the things Tony would want to do with his daughter. 

They walked out of the subway and out into the streets, greeting rainbow flags, marching bands, and cheers from hundreds of people supporting the Pride Parade. 

"What's happening?" asked Morgan, eyes already zeroing in on the main road where the festivities seemed to be taking place.

"It's a Pride parade," Harley explained.

"What's pride?"

"It's when you're really happy about who you are and these people are celebrating that."

Harley had to put Morgan up on his shoulders as he walked closer to get a better view.

"A RAINBOW!" Morgan cried out. 

There was what seemed to be a rainbow made entirely of multicolored balloons making its way up the street. It arched over the people carrying it and Morgan was smiling in delight. 

They lingered for a while because Morgan wanted to see the dancing birds. Not actual birds but people dressed as colorful birds. 

"Look! Purple hair!" said Morgan, pointing at a dancer. 

They walked along the sidewalk to see what else was happening when Morgan spotted a vendor selling some Pride accessories. 

"I want the rainbow unicorn one!"

Harley bought a pack of stickers which Morgan proceeded to stick all over their arms and faces. 

Harley was not exempted. 

Suddenly, there was a loud cheering and Morgan and Harley turned just in time to see familiar faces in the parade. 

Harley inserted himself among the throng and finally managed to get directly behind the rails. 

Morgan squinted, pulling at Harley's hair. "Is that... Someone dressed as daddy!"

There was a group of people dressed up as the Avengers but with a Pride twist. 

There was a rainbow cape trailing behind "Thor" who waved a hammer shouting something Harley couldn’t hear because the crowd was cheering.

Behind "Thor" was "Iron Man" whose suit was painted the colors of the rainbow and walking hand-in-hand with a scantily clad Captain America.

“Why isn’t Captain America wearing any clothes?” asked Morgan. "Isn't he cold?"

Harley was saved from answering when there came cries of "SPIDER-MAN!" and people were pointing as the hero swung over them, raining confetti down on them all.

Harley laughed. So _this_ was why Peter blew them off today. 

"I think Spider-Man is very proud of who he is," Morgan said and then turned her attention back to the Avengers. "That's a tiny Hulk!" 

"Hey, Iron Man!" called Harley and Morgan joined him. 

"Iron Man" saw them and walked towards them, giving everyone he could reach a high-five (including Morgan).

She was extremely pleased and started talking about how she wanted to wear her own rainbow colored suit.

After all the Avengers had passed, Morgan and Harley continued their way down the street.

…

They went to the Children’s Museum because Harley knew Tony had planned on taking Morgan again when she turned five, but had never gotten to it for obvious reasons.

Morgan loved it.

Harley could barely catch up to her as she ran around an open mouth, slid down its tongue, and promptly shouted at Harley to “Hurry up!”

Her favorite part though was painting at one of the activity tables.

“What’re you making?” Harley asked, peering over to her work.

Morgan stood, showing him her drawing of a unicorn with purple felt balls pasted on top of what must be its mane.

“Like that bird on the street today.”

Harley pointed at something drawn over the unicorn’s backside. It had stars all over it.

“What’s that?”

“It’s her underpants. Like Captain America. I liked it.”

Harley choked on his own saliva while Morgan sat back down and set her drawing a little too roughly on the table.

She accidentally knocked over a spoonful of paint and it landed on Harley’s work, splattering the surface and Harley himself.

Harley looked at Morgan, mouth agape.

Morgan tried to look apologetic but failed completely because Harley had paint on his front teeth.

“Your teeth!”

Harley half-glared at her.

The thought “What would Tony do?” flitted across his mind for a brief second.

And then—

Harley flicked the spoon of paint right back at her.

Morgan shrieked.

…

Harley couldn’t even bring himself to appear ashamed as Pepper Potts stood over them at the Security’s Office.

“Were the two of you trying to paint the whole place blue?”

“It’s paint the town red—”

Pepper shot Harley a look and Harley pressed his mouth closed.

Morgan lowered her head in shame. At least one of them looked apologetic.

“I’m sorry, Mommy. It was an accident. I won’t do it again.”

It definitely was not an accident and Pepper knew that too. But Morgan was five who took social cues from those around her and Harley was almost a legal adult. This was all on him.

Pepper sighed and took Morgan’s face in her hands, turning it left and then right. Then she glanced at Harley.

“The two of you look like you belong at the Pride parade.”

Harley and Morgan exchanged looks and they both failed to stifle their laughter.

Morgan not only had stickers over her face and paint to boot, but her hair was streaked yellow and red, and her white shirt was barely visible. Harley imagined he looked equally hilarious.

"We're just celebrating who we are, Mom," said Harley. 

"Yeah!" Morgan agreed. "When I grow up I want to be like Rainbow Iron Man!"

"You also look like you could be at Coachella,” Pepper added. The smallest twitch of her mouth was the only sign that she found the sight just as humorous as the children did.

“What’s Coachella?” asked Morgan.

“That’s where I’m taking you next year,” Harley couldn’t help but say. “It’s so cool! They have marshmallows and chocolate and music!”

Pepper’s head snapped to his direction, smile gone. “I’m not leaving you two alone again. Honestly, Harley, this seemed more like something I’d expect from Tony.”

This time Harley beamed, proud and unrestrained. “Then my work here is done.”

Pepper gave him a confused look. Had he done all this in the name of Tony Stark? Why would he…?

Pepper caught the look Morgan sent Harley. It had been a while since she smiled this bright or had actually done something mischievous.

Pepper closed her eyes and then opened them again.

“Did you have fun?” she asked Morgan.

Morgan nodded, eyes lighting up because apparently she wasn’t going to be punished anymore. “It’s the best day ever!” She pulled a piece of paper out of her backpack and handed it to her mom. 

Fortunately, the important parts of it were still visible while the rest was covered in the same paint Morgan was.

“I made a unicorn. She has purple hair because the dancer in the parade had purple hair. And she has the same star underpants as Captain America. I think they must be special underpants because even without clothes on, Captain America didn’t act like he was cold at all, Mommy.”

Harley’s eyes widened as he imagined what Morgan's statement sounded like to her mother.

Pepper rounded on him.

And Harley thought one thing, “Shit. Tony, what do I do?”


	6. Happy

Happy rolled past the parking lot in a two-wheeled electric scooter.

Years ago, the sight of Happy Hogan rolling anywhere was enough cause for Stark employees to run the opposite way.

But not this time.

This time people waved at Happy's direction, greeted him with smiles on their faces.

That had nothing to do with the fact that Happy was Asset Manager, though, and everything to do with the five year old currently riding the Stark designed scooter with him.

Morgan stood in front of Happy, hands on the handlebar, looking like a girl on a mission.

Happy's own hands were on the outer sides of the bars and he stood behind Morgan, making sure the girl didn't fall off the too-big scooter (she had insisted on riding the scooter on her own but Happy refused).

They stopped right in front of the main lobby.

Morgan hopped off first, followed by Happy who then parked the scooter in the designated space.

"There's something missing on your suit," Happy said to her.

Morgan looked at herself, wondering what was missing with her outfit.

She was wearing black slacks, a white dress shirt, blazer, and a necktie. She and Uncle Happy matched. Mommy took pictures this morning.

The sunglasses perched on her nose slightly slid down and she pushed it up, looking at Uncle Happy.

"What?"

Uncle Happy tapped an ID badge that was pinned to his suit pocket. He then took out another similar one from his pants pocket, grinning excitedly. "Your badge. This is your first day at work. You need a badge. You can't enter or exit the building or any of the rooms without your badge."

Morgan nodded firmly and let Happy pin the badge to the pocket of her blazer.

Happy took his sunglasses off and gave her a once-over. Nodding in approval, he asked, "You ready, Miss Stark?"

Morgan giggled at the formality and Happy gave her a scolding look. This was serious work. No giggles allowed.

Morgan got the message and straightened. "I'm ready, Mr. Hogan."

Happy walked first.

"Wait!" Morgan cried.

Happy turned back to see what the matter was.

Morgan took off her sunglasses and handed it over to Happy for safekeeping.

"Now, I'm ready."

Happy slid the tiny sunglasses in his pocket. Not only was he the head of Asset Management but he also doubled as a human handbag for Morgan Stark.

They entered the building.

Two security men greeted the duo, not giving any outward sign that they were highly amused at the get-up.

They got the memo from the boss up top. Everyone did. Morgan Stark was gonna work for a living. That is, she was gonna be in one realistic pretend-play session and they were all expected to portray their roles as convincingly as possible, which they were all more than happy to do.

"Good morning, Mr. Hogan, Miss Stark."

"Good morning, men," said Happy, pulling at his badge. The elastic attached to it extended, allowing him to bring the badge down on the scanner.

"Good morning, men," Morgan parroted, tapping her own badge down.

Morgan walked up beside Happy who said in a low voice, "Now, remember what I said about the badges. You're not Head of Security but that doesn't mean you can't remind people about their badges."

Morgan nodded, eyes already scanning everyone if they wore badges.

They stopped at the help desk and Happy cleared his throat.

"Mr. Happy Hogan and Miss Morgan Stark here to conduct a routine check-up. Please come forward."

A man and a woman rounded the help desk, the latter trying to repress a smile at the theatrics while the former was waving giddily at Morgan.

Happy whispered in Morgan's ear. "Check if they have a badge."

Morgan did as she was told and was pleased to report that the man was wearing a badge but the woman wasn't.

The woman feigned surprise and quickly ran back to the desk. "It's here!" she said, raising it up and running back to Morgan. She pinned it to her collar. "I just forgot to pin it, Miss Stark."

"That's okay. Just don't forget next time or you can't go home." Morgan looked at Happy next, wondering what she was going to do now.

Happy said, "We'll let you off with a warning." He took out a notebook from the inner lining of his suit. He handed it to Morgan. "Write her name down on the list."

Morgan obeyed, kneeling on the ground so that she could write properly. She looked up at the woman. "What's your name?" she asked sweetly.

The man gushed at Morgan and the woman said, "It's Sharon."

As the woman spelled her first name for Morgan, Happy peered down at the girl's work.

"Don't ignore your blue-red-blue lines or I'm telling Miss Monica you're not practicing your writing."

Morgan persevered and wrote Sharon successfully in large capital letters.

Happy let it slide.

Before they left, Morgan shook hands with the two employees and said, "Don't forget your badges, okay?"

"Will do, Miss Stark." The man saluted at her causing Morgan to giggle.

"Just put them on your clothes, then they'll never get lost."

"Thanks for the advice, Miss Stark. We'll strive to do better!"

Morgan waved goodbye at them and then the two went on their way to the elevator.

Uncle Happy really  _was_  right. They couldn't go anywhere without the badge. She had to tap her badge on the elevator too!

She had been on this elevator before but never had to be bothered with tapping since Uncle Happy or Mommy always did that for her.

They exited at the top floor which was where Pepper's office was.

"Good morning, Miss Stark," said Bambi, Pepper's secretary. "Mr. Hogan." The crinkle in her eyes were the only sign that she found Morgan looking absolutely endearing in her "work outfit."

In a gesture of transparency, Pepper's office was completely see-through, the walls made of glass that allowed anybody to see what she was doing.

Happy tapped his badge against the security scanner of the door and Morgan ran inside, bouncing over to her mother who was by her desk and signing some documents. Her personal assistant Mandy stood behind her, waiting for the said documents.

Morgan chirped, "Hi, Mommy!"

Pepper paused to give her daughter a kiss.

"Watcha doing?"

"I'm signing some documents."

Morgan studied the way her mother quickly scribbled on the paper. It was loopy and not at all similar to what writing was like in school. Signing looked fun, she decided.

"I want to sign too!"

"You have some work prepared, Miss Stark," Mandy stated, going over to a smaller desk and chair at a corner of the room.

Morgan followed.

There were markers and pencils on the desk and several activity sheets Friday had printed out for Morgan to work with.

Morgan sat on her chair and stared at the paper. "Writing again?" she asked bluntly.

All three adults in the room laughed.

"That's work, honey."

"Miss Monica wants you perfecting your Ks," said Uncle Happy. "You're still writing them backwards."

Morgan pouted but turned to her activity nonetheless. She started with her name.

Pepper rose, chair rolling back.

"I'll be out for a meeting with Johnson&Johnson, but I'll be back for lunch," she said to Happy who nodded.

While Pepper and Mandy left the office, Happy settled himself on the couch. His attention turned to his tablet which contained the latest batch of assets to be sorted through.

When Morgan finished writing her name, she turned the activity sheets over to their blank sides and decided she'd try signing.

She made a fast small scribble on the lower part of first page, and then scribbled on the second page, and then the next, just like how Mommy signed on almost all the pages of her documents.

She frowned when she ran out of paper.

"Uncle Happy, I need more paper."

Happy glanced around, said, "I think there's some paper on your mom's desk. Use those," and then turned back to his reading, squinting his eyes a little bit at something he didn't understand.

Morgan climbed up her mother's chair, kneeling on the cushion. She pulled herself close to the table and started going through the papers there.

Her eyes sparkled in interest at having found a particular paper that looked like the ones Mommy signed earlier.

They even had that space for her to sign!

She counted them.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven!

And then there was another set of the same documents.

Her eyes widened. Two sets of documents for her to practice signing.

Morgan uncapped her bright green marker and got to work.

…

Pepper called moments later and Happy tore his eyes off his tablet to answer.

"Hello."

"Happy, I forgot something in the office. The Johnson&Johnson contracts are on my desk. Could you hand it to Bambi, please? She'll bring it over to the conference room."

"Yeah, sure."

"Thank you!"

Happy put his phone down and went over to Pepper's desk. As he approached, he watched Morgan who was completely lost in her "work" and started to feel a tingling of unease.

When he finally got close enough to the desk, all color drained from his face when he saw exactly what Morgan was working on.

He made a small sound of panic at the back of his throat and snatched the contract.

"Hey! No grabbing!"

Happy flipped through the pages, but they were all the same. All of it was covered in bright green scribbles.

He grabbed the remaining sheets of paper on the desk and found the other set only partially scribbled.

He suddenly felt light-headed.

When the feeling passed, he turned to Morgan, eyes bulging out of their sockets.

Morgan deflated, growing small in her chair as she recognized the look on Uncle Happy's face. He wasn't happy about something she did. But she didn't know what she did wrong. She was just working!

Happy, on his part, seemed to be at war with himself. He was sputtering something Morgan couldn't understand.

"Why did you—this wasn't your—your mother—" He took a deep breath. "What are you doing on your mom's table? You have your own!"

"I had to get paper."

"And you used your mom's paper?"

"You said to get mommy's paper!"

"I did?" He did. He vaguely remembered saying something along those lines but he had been too busy figuring out how to navigate the excel sheet. "Crap."

Morgan cocked her head. "Crap?"

"That's my word," Happy said quickly, trying to salvage what he could. "Mom gets 'shit.' I get 'crap.'"

"What about me?"

" _You_  get to say 'I'm sorry' to your mother if she finds out about this."

Morgan pouted.

Pepper needed those contracts. Without those contracts, the Johnson&Johnson deal wasn't going to push through, and if it didn't push through, everyone in Stark Industries would be out of a job!

Okay, that was a bit of a stretch, but Happy was panicking. He was allowed to jump to such scenarios.

He took off his suit, feeling a little warm all of a sudden. He tossed his blazer on the sofa and gathered his wits.

"Alright. You and I are in trouble."

Morgan started to worry, mirroring the countenance on Uncle Happy's face. "But why? We're just working."

"We vandalized Mommy's paper!"

"I don't know what that means."

"We drew on Mommy's paper!" Happy missed the days when all he had to worry about was Morgan drawing on the walls. Now, he had to worry about  _this!_

"I didn't draw on mommy's paper. I was signing. Like Mommy."

"Right but only Mommy can do that because it's her paper. And they're very important documents. She's gonna give it to some very important people and they can't sign the paper if  _you_ already signed the paper. Which means they're going to get mad at your mom!"

Morgan twisted her hands in her suit. She didn't want her mom to get in trouble. "What are we going to do?"

Happy stopped pacing and said, "We're gonna need to print them all again. And I need your help because I don't know how to work the printer."

Morgan nodded, resolve building. She could help Uncle Happy print the paper. She had seen Bambi print stuff all the time. It's easy, right?

Happy quickly rounded the desk and faced Pepper's computer. Thankfully, the file was already on her desktop and he clicked it open.

"Okay, now we just gotta print it." He turned to the printer and then to Morgan. "How do you turn on the printer?"

Morgan stood on the chair to get a better look at the machine, trying to see if there was an On button.

"There!" she pointed at the symbol. "This means On or Off."

Happy had never been more relieved that Morgan was more technologically literate than he was.

The printer whirred to life and the blinking light seemed like a good sign.

"Okay. Now what?" He turned to Morgan.

Morgan blankly looked at him. "The paper comes out of the mouth. Is there paper on the printer?"

Happy checked and yes, there were blank sheets of paper on the printer. But how do they make it print?

He turned to the computer screen. There should be something in here that said PRINT, right?

"When Bambi prints stuff, the paper just comes out," Morgan was saying, "Maybe there's a PRINT button?"

Happy snapped his fingers. "Bambi! We should call her." He rushed out of the room and Morgan watched him explain the situation to the secretary.

Bambi rounded her desk and Morgan smiled. They were going to fix this!

Happy pulled the door open for Bambi but it didn't budge. He had been so preoccupied he forgot he had to tap his badge first.

He felt for his badge but it wasn't on his person.

He looked inside the office and spotted his coat on the sofa, his ID badge visibly attached to it.

Happy groaned. This day just got worse. Now Morgan was stuck in an office. Alone. He rapped on the door.

"Morgan! Open the door!"

From her spot on the chair, Morgan shouted, "What?" Uncle Happy's voice was muffled.

"Open the door! I can't get in! I forgot my badge!"

But Morgan wasn't listening. She was busy trying to get down from the chair so she could come closer and hear Happy properly.

Beside Happy, Bambi rolled her eyes, muttered a "For heavens sake, move!" and then tapped her own badge on the door.

"Oh," was all Happy said.

Things were much calmer with Bambi in charge now, Morgan noted.

As the printer printed the contract, Bambi turned to Happy and Morgan who were both seated on the sofa looking like children who got called to the Principal's Office.

With arms folded and a look of disappointment on her face, she said, "Now, can somebody tell me what we did wrong today?"

Happy and Morgan exchanged looks and then Morgan said, "We vandalized Mommy's paper. But Uncle Happy said I could—"

Bambi raised a brow at Happy who shook his head. "I didn't—well, I did, but I didn't think there'd be contracts on the table."

Morgan bowed her head. "I only wanted to practice signing like Mommy."

Happy nodded, "She only wanted to be a little boss. This is all on me."

Bambi sighed. "I won't tell Pepper what you two did here today. But this will never happen again. This is your first and last warning, okay?"

Morgan and Happy nodded, relieved.

"Next time you're hanging out in  _my_  office," said Happy to Morgan. "What are you doing?"

Morgan had gotten off the sofa and was now rummaging through Happy's blazer. She took out the notebook she used earlier and then quickly grabbed another bright colored marker that made Happy nauseated just looking at it. It reminded him too much of how close he was to ruining Pepper's big deal.

Morgan knelt down beside the table, pen poised, and notebook open. She looked at Happy. "How do you spell your name?"

"Why?"

Morgan pointed at his chest. "You're not wearing your badge."

Happy chuckled despite the situation. "H-A-P-P-Y."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would honestly love to see Morgan wearing matching outfits with Happy.


	7. Bruce

Harley wheezed, halting from his run to catch his breath. He clutched at his smarting side with one hand while he raised his other hand up in a Stop gesture.

Slowing to a walk were Peter and Morgan, both appearing to be breathing fine; one was enhanced while the other was 5 years old, though. It was pretty clear to Harley that he got the shortest end of the endurance stick.

"Come on!" Morgan cried, pulling at Harley's outstretched hand and making him stand up. They still had the rest of the afternoon to play before Mommy picked her up after work.

Harley shook his head. "I can't. I'm done. I'm too old to last long on a game of Tag." He staggered slowly back inside the rebuilt Avengers compound, shoulders hunched, and breathing still uneven.

Morgan and Peter followed him to the lobby where Harley deposited himself on the couch.

"Let's just play another game," said Harley.

"What game?" asked Morgan, bouncing on the balls of her feet. She wasn't tired yet and another game sounded amazing!

Harley held up a finger at her saying, "Let me and Peter brainstorm for a minute, okay?"

Morgan nodded and waited expectantly, watching Harley get up to walk over to Peter. They both turned their backs on her to exchange a few private words.

Harley shook his head at Peter and said in a low voice, "I can't do another physical game. You know I'm not an athlete." Harley was more of a mechanic, sit in a chair, fiddle with a laptop, roll under a car. That kind of stuff. "Why can't we play a card game?"

"Oh, you want to play Cards Against Humanity – Avengers Edition with a five year old?" Ned's old Cards Against Humanity was still in Peter's backpack.

"Then what do you suggest?" Harley hissed.

"Hide-and-Seek."

"We might lose her in the compound."

"Hopscotch."

"Too much jumping."

Peter's eyes widened as an idea came to him. He hit Harley with the back of his hand to get his attention. "Dude! We could go in the Game Room!"

Harley's eyes widened. "There's a game room?"

"Yeah! The Avengers play Boggle all the time. And they have video games in there, a shelf full of board games, and a bunch of bean bags to sit your lazy ass on."

Harley grinned. He'd been dying to sit down. "That's the best thing to come out of your mouth! Let's go!"

They both turned around, their identical smiles vanishing when they realized Morgan was no longer waiting for them to finish talking.

They both looked around.

"Where's Morgan?"

Peter blinked twice as if it would somehow make her appear. "She was right there!"

"You don't think she decided to play Hide-and-Seek, do you?" Harley asked. Morgan was the worst in Hide-and-Seek and by that Harley meant that she was really good at hiding. Every time they played, he ended up freaking out because he couldn't find her anywhere.

One thing was sure, though. He and Peter were going to have to go over all the floors of the compound and find her before Pepper arrived.

Harley longingly thought of the beanbags he wouldn't be sitting on anytime soon.

…

Morgan found the laboratory not long after she decided to leave Peter and Harley in the kitchen. They were taking too long in their meeting and like Daddy always said, "Why wait when you can do it yourself?"

Morgan was a kid and if there was one thing she was good at it was finding stuff to entertain herself with.

She soundlessly entered, looking around for something interesting. Then, she found someone even better.

"Uncle Bruce!"

Uncle Bruce was crouched over the table, eye on a microscope. He looked away when he heard her call, mouth breaking into a smile as she approached.

"Hey there, Tiny!" He lifted Morgan on his lap and she automatically peered into the microscope too.

"What's that?"

"Some cultured bacteria."

"Cool." Morgan didn't know what cultured was but the fuzzy looking bacteria was interesting. She turned away from the bacteria and back to her uncle.

"How are you?" he asked her.

Morgan smiled. "I'm bored."

"You're bored?" Morgan nodded proudly and Bruce had to ask, "How old are you again?"

"Five," Morgan said, fingers starting to draw lines on Uncle Bruce's weak arm, the one that got hurt in the big battle.

"You can't be bored! You have ten more years to go before you start saying sentences like, 'I'm bored.'"

"But I'm bored!" Morgan insisted with a giggle. She abandoned his arm and said, "Do you want to play a game with me?"

"What game?"

Morgan shrugged. "Peter and Harley already played Tag with me. So, we have to play something new."

Bruce thought back to a recent video he saw online. "I know this one cool game, but it's a very old game, though, I don't think people play it now. They weren't anymore when  _I_  found out about it."

Morgan leaned closer in interest. "What is it?"

"Aw, I don't know. It might be too  _boring_  for you." Bruce then looked away to hide his smirk. Not soon after, he felt Morgan's small hand on his cheek, pulling his face back to look at her.

"I want to play!"

"Okay, but it requires strength and stamina."

"I'm strong and…" Morgan frowned. "What's the other one?"

"Stamina."

"I'm stamina!"

"Are you?"

"Yeah!"

"You also need to be quick and fast," Uncle Bruce told her and Morgan's face grew determined.

"I'm quick and fast!"

"Are you a good jumper?"

Morgan nodded.

"Let me see."

She climbed down Uncle Bruce's lap and jumped as high as she could. She was a pretty good jumper. She practiced her jumping rope at home.

"You'll do."

Uncle Bruce rose and put his cultured bacteria away. Then he took Morgan's hand and gloriously said, "This game is so intense, we're gonna have to play it at the gym so that we don't hurt any of my cultured bacteria."

Morgan's jaw dropped in interest and as she walked alongside Bruce, she did not regret leaving Peter and Harley alone at all.

…

The gym was a big place, Morgan saw. There were a lot machines too and Morgan could imagine herself spending a whole day inside, bouncing on that big green ball, climbing monkey bars, and hanging on the ropes that came down from the ceiling.

Bruce lifted a bench press machine from its spot and transferred it somewhere else. He was rearranging the equipment in the gym in an attempt to make an easy enough obstacle course for Morgan. The tools and equipment were all set up in a way that would allow her to safely transfer from one to another without falling.

Bruce also placed yellow flags around to make the game more interesting. He had YouTube to thank for this idea. Hulk loved watching throwback videos, the website providing him with memes and other pop-culture references.

Bruce walked back to Morgan and explained the mechanics of the game to her.

"See those yellow flags everywhere?"

Morgan nodded.

"We have to get as many flags as we can, okay?"

"That's easy!"

Uncle Bruce laughed at her. "Oh, really? Well, there's a catch because the game we're playing is called The Floor is Lava."

Morgan looked down at the floor then back up at the grinning giant man in front of her. "The Floor is Lava? We're not in a volcano!"

"No, but we have to pretend. We can't step on the floor because it's lava and if we do…" Uncle Bruce suddenly snatched Morgan up and she shouted in surprise. "We die!" He threw her in the air and caught her.

Morgan screamed in delight.

Uncle Bruce set her back down and seriously said, "So, we have to get as many yellow flags as we can but not step on the floor, okay? You can step on the treadmill or on the benches, climb the rope, or up the monkey bars, but don't let any part of your body touch the floor, understand?"

Morgan nodded, practically vibrating in excitement. "This is so fun! Let's play! Let's play!"

"Ready? Go!"

Morgan squealed and immediately jumped on top of a nearby stool. Bruce, on the other hand, was on a treadmill and making his way to a yellow flag.

Morgan took a breath and began moving. She jumped to another stool, longer and narrower this time and she used it to reach the steps of the monkey bars.

She climbed up and crawled over the top bars, reaching for a yellow flag that Uncle Bruce had tied on one bar.

"I got one!" she cried triumphantly, waving it up to show Uncle Bruce.

"I got one too!" came Bruce's reply, a childish grin on his face.

Morgan stuffed the flag in her pocket and continued on her way to the last bar. She looked around for something to transfer to. The rope hanging from the ceiling caught her eye.

Morgan looked down. It would be quite a fall if she didn't catch the rope. She looked to Uncle Bruce who was quite near to her now, near enough for him to reach Morgan if he wanted to.

She took the risk.

She jumped.

And then she was falling.

Morgan shut her eyes tight and screamed.

Suddenly, she felt a hand roughly grab her, catching her before she hit the floor.

"I got you!"

Morgan opened her eyes. Uncle Bruce was holding on to the monkey bars with his weak hand while his good arm was around Morgan's small frame.

"You okay?" Uncle Bruce asked, drawing the girl close to him. That was a pretty close call, he thought, his heart hammering loudly in his head. Even Hulk got a little bit scared at that moment.

Morgan hugged him in relief and said, "You saved me from the lava!"

Bruce patted her back. "Don't do that again, okay? It's just a game." He refrained from adding that if anything ever happened to Morgan, Bruce was pretty sure Tony Stark would resurrect from the dead to give Bruce a piece of his mind.

"But I want to win!" cried Morgan, pushing his arm away and climbing over him to the top bars of the monkey bars.

"What are you doing?"

Morgan didn't reply and Bruce tried to follow her line of sight. She was looking up at a flag taped high on a wall.

Bruce felt Hulk give him a little nudge, the other guy did not enjoy the prospect of losing to a five-year-old.

"Oh, you found another one, did you? I'm not gonna let you!"

…

"She's in there?" Peter asked, running towards Harley who was standing right outside the gym, looking at something. "What's she doing? Working out?"

"You won't believe me," said Harley, still looking at something in the room that was out of Peter's sight.

Peter finally reached Harley and turned to look through the glass that made up the gym's walls.

"Are they seriously playing the Floor is Lava?" Peter asked. That game was like an old meme back in… Peter shook his head… it was such a long time ago.

"Like you expected something updated from the Hulk? This is the same guy who still does dabs in 2024 A.T.," stated Harley.

Peter frowned at his friend in mild confusion. "A.T.?"

"After Tony."

"Dude."

"What? I like it better than 'year of our lord and savior Tony Stark.'"

Peter shook his head. "That's not—" but he didn't get to finish because they heard Bruce's voice through the glass.

"AAAH! Peter, Harley, help us!" Bruce was shouting.

Harley and Peter looked at each other, the same idea flitting through their minds.

"What'd you say, Parker? Prepared to lose in a little throwback game of The Floor is Lava?" Harley cockily swung the door open, throwing Peter a smug look.

"You realize that I can literally stick on the ceiling, right?"

"Hey, no powers! No fair!"


	8. Mommy

The fan mail didn't stop just because Iron Man was dead. If anything, they've increased in number.

The fan mail were sent to Stark Industries headquarters or the new Avengers compound, which were then screened by security, and then forwarded over to the people they were addressed to. 

Tony had always received fan mail, gifts from fans, letters asking for help—but it was always the fan mail he liked to keep. 

The gifts he sent over to charity, the cries for help he forwarded to appropriate agencies, but the artwork and the little notes... He kept those in his workshop or in his office. 

He always read through each one.

It was a regular thing between him and Pepper. They would spend Sunday nights taking turns reading letters out loud and chuckling over something funny the fans wrote or drew. 

Now, sitting on her bed alone in her room on a Sunday, Pepper read through the newest batch. 

She was holding a drawing of Iron Man and smiled wistfully at a particularly heartwarming but humorous speech bubble that accompanied it.

She glanced to her right, automatically wanting to share her find with her husband, but found empty space instead.

She looked away.

That was how Morgan found Mommy, sitting on the bed that had tons of paper on it. 

She cheerfully made her presence known, asking in a sing-song voice, "Whatcha doin'?"

Mommy dropped the paper she held and turned to Morgan who was now climbing up the bed.

"I'm reading some letters to daddy."

Letters to Daddy? Morgan sat beside Mommy, careful not to crumple the letters that were spread out. 

Morgan scanned the letters on the bed. She picked up one particular artwork—colorful and eye-catching. "Who made this?"

"Other kids. They send daddy their drawings."

"Why?"

"Well, it's sort of like how when you draw something, you always show me and Daddy."

Morgan sent Mommy a questioning look. "Don't they show their drawings to their mommies and daddies?"

"I think they do. But then after, they send it here to us."

"But why?" Morgan didn’t understand why they wouldn’t tape it up on their bedroom wall like she did or put it up on the kitchen fridge.

"So that daddy can see how much they love him."

"But he's not their daddy! He's mine!"

Mommy lovingly cupped Morgan's cheek. "Oh, they know that. But he's not just daddy, you know. He's also Iron Man."

Morgan knew that. "Yeah and Iron Man saved the world."

"That's right. That's why other people always send Daddy letters even though he's not here anymore. They just want to say thank you."

Oh, Morgan thought. Saying thank you was good. You should always say thank you. 

Morgan turned back to the artwork she held in her hands and wrinkled her nose. 

“This is ugly,” she said honestly. 

It was, Pepper couldn't help but agree. Eye-catching and colorful, but not exactly nice to look at. One could say it was an abstract Iron Man.

But despite what she thought, Pepper said, “Morgan, that's not nice.”

“What? You want me to lie?” 

Morgan sounded so much like her father at that moment; her eyebrows even drew together just like Tony’s would.

"Next time, we say ' _I_ don’t like this' because that's what _you_ think. But the one who made it think it's beautiful, that’s why he sent it over."

Pepper looked at the artwork again. It was so peculiar in design that she was certain Tony would have liked it. 

"Let me keep that one. I think it's nice."

Pepper had been keeping fan art for a year now. They were framed and hung all over the company.

Morgan passed the drawing to Mommy and picked up another one. This time it was a drawing of a baby Iron Man followed by a short note at the side.

"Ana!" Morgan said, reading the name at the bottom of the paper. "It says Ana and a number eight. Why is there a number eight?"

"That means Ana drew this and she's eight years old. What else did she say?"

Morgan put her finger under the words as she read, sounding out the first letter of the word and blending it with the sound of the next letter just like how Ms. Monica taught her. "Dear Mister Stark, my baby brother was born today. We..."

"Named,” Mommy supplied.

"Named him Stark after you." Morgan quickly faced her mother, grinning in recognition. "We have the same name!" A lot of people in school had the same names. There were two Samanthas and two Johns but never another Stark. This was so cool, Morgan thought. 

"You do!"

Morgan continued reading, "We call him…Stark..ee..Starkee." She turned to Mommy for confirmation.

Mommy nodded. "Starky.”

"Starky the Iron Baby. I want to bring him to your...”

“Company.”

“To your company when he is big."

Morgan looked up at her mom. "If he's going to the company they'll call him Mister Stark cause they call me Miss Stark."

Pepper laughed, agreeing. She had originally felt weird whenever strangers came up to her saying they named their children after Tony, but Pepper knew her husband would have loved the attention.

“There can never be enough Tonys in the world, Pep,” she could almost hear him say.

"Mommy?"

Pepper drew her focus back to her daughter. "Yes, honey?"

"Does Ana know Daddy's dead?"

"I think so."

"Why are the people sending Daddy letters if he can't read them?"

"Oh I think Dad can read them. But not in the same way we do."

"How?"

"Well, remember when I said his spirit went up to the heavens with the stars and the planets?”

Morgan nodded. “You mean his ghost.” Daddy was a ghost now. 

Pepper laughed, Morgan understood the concept of ghosts more than spirits. “Yeah, his ghost. When we write down a letter, the messages get sent up to Daddy."

"But how can he write them back?" Ghosts were see-through and couldn't touch anything. 

"Oh, he can't, honey. But we can." Mommy brightened at an idea. "Do you want to write Ana back?"

Morgan sat up straight. "Can I?"

"Sure!"

"Can I make her and Baby Starky a drawing?"

"Absolutely!"

Morgan beamed. "Okay! I'll get my markers!"

She ran out of the room and came back with a notepad and her pack of scented markers. 

Laying on her stomach on the bed, elbows propped up, she looked at Mommy. "What do I say?"

"It's up to you. What do you want to say to her?"

"I think Baby Starky is cute but he's too small to be a superhero. Maybe he should wait until he's big like me." Daddy once said that she couldn't have a suit of her own yet. But that was when she was four. She was five now!

"That's good advice."

With approval from her mother, Morgan started writing, occasionally pausing to ask Pepper how to spell some words. When that was done, she made a drawing of what looked to be an Iron Baby flying not with Iron Man, but with an unmistakable purple and silver suit—Pepper's own, Rescue. 

Sitting back up, Morgan showed it to her mother. Mommy recognized the image immediately.

"Hey, that's me!" Mommy pointed out. "What am I doing in there?"

"This is Iron Mommy because Starky is still a baby."

Pepper laughed. "Don't forget to write down Iron Mommy or else Ana might not know who she is."

"Of course, she knows who that is, Mommy!" Everyone knew who Rescue was! But Morgan wrote down 'Iron Mommy' anyway, her unbound hair creating a curtain, hiding her face.

Pepper reached over to her night stand and got a ponytail. She moved to sit directly behind Morgan, spreading her legs apart so that Morgan was on the space between them.

While Morgan continued to write, Pepper started to gather her daughter's hair and Morgan paused to smile at her.

Mommy was better than Daddy in doing Morgan’s hair.

Morgan could remember one time when Daddy tried to tie a lot of ponytails on her for Allie's birthday party. 

"You look like a coconut tree," Daddy had said to her and Morgan had laughed nonstop. 

After that, Daddy watched a lot of videos to fix her coconut hair.

"Can you make it a braid?" Morgan asked, reclining against her mother. 

Pepper wrapped her arms around her daughter. “What’s the magic word?”

“Shit.”

Pepper immediately dug her fingers on Morgan’s sides, the girl squirming as she shrieked.

“Please, please!”

“That’s what I thought.”

Still laughing, Pepper pushed Morgan back so she’d sit straight and Pepper could braid her hair. Meanwhile, Morgan finished the last touches on her drawing.

She got another letter to read and recognized a word when she was scanning it. “Look, Mommy! This one’s got your name on it!”

Pepper tied the end of the short braid with the ponytail and then looked over Morgan’s shoulder to read it.

“ _Dear Pepper,_ ” Mommy read, “ _Words cannot express how grateful I am for the role your husband played in saving the world_.” She glanced at Morgan. “He’s talking about Daddy.” She continued reading, _“I know it cost him his life but it brought back mine. My son, Charlie, was three when he Vanished and because of your husband and the Avengers, he gets to live. It’s been a year since Iron Man died and my son continues to sleep surrounded by his Iron Man toys_."

"He's got Iron Man toys?"

"Sounds like it. Let's continue. _I just wanted to let you know that your husband continues to make my son feel safe even beyond the grave_.”

“What’s grave?”

“It’s where we put Daddy’s body when he died.” Mommy read again, “ _Even in death, he watches over us all. I wish you all the best, Peter Hansen_.”

“What did that mean?” The letter sounded too grown up for Morgan's taste, not at all like Ana's letter. 

“He talked about how Daddy saved his son Charlie. And Charlie was sad that Daddy died so he would sleep with all his Iron Man toys because he thinks that Iron Man watches over him that way.”

Morgan nodded, understanding. She had Iron Man toys too and would kiss them goodnight before bed, just like how Daddy would kiss her when he was still around.

Enclosed with the letter was a photo of the boy, Charlie, asleep in bed, surrounded by tons of Iron Man stuffed toys ranging from an Iron Man build-a-bear to an Iron Man Tsum Tsum.

“Look, mom! He’s got _so many_ Iron Man toys!” Morgan said, her jaw dropping at the amount of Iron Man she could see. "Wow, he really does love Iron Man!"

"I know! He’s adorable.”

"Mommy, you should take a photo of me with my Iron Man toy too!" Morgan grinned. "And then we send it to Charlie so he knows that I miss and love Daddy too and that our Iron Man toys are watching over me and you when we sleep."

Pepper nodded, eyes turning a little watery. "You're full of great ideas today!"

Morgan giggled and tapped her temple. "That's because I'm smart." She climbed down the bed quickly, yelling at her mother to follow her to her room.

"Mom!"

“I’m coming!”

When Pepper got to Morgan's room, Morgan had already tucked herself in bed, excited to pretend to sleep. Morgan's arm was curled around her Iron Man stuffed toy and it was drawn close to her.

Pepper pulled out her phone and tapped the camera app.

"Ready?"

Morgan closed her eyes, head drooping downwards. One could clearly see the Iron Man plushie and Pepper took the shot. 

"Done."

Morgan quickly kicked the covers away and stood on the bed, walking over to Mommy to see the result.

"Again! Again!"

They did a few different takes because Morgan loved to pose and wanted to get everything right. She got that from her father, no doubt.

Under normal circumstances, Pepper wouldn’t send a complete stranger her daughter’s picture. But this Peter Hansen had trusted her with an intimate photo of his son. She knew she could trust him with a photo of her daughter too.

After the picture-taking, Morgan took it upon herself to design a new letter to the boy named Charlie.

They spent the whole Sunday in bed, reading letters ("He's five years old too!") and critiquing drawings ("Look, Mom! His one eye is bigger!") and occasionally responding to some fans ("Can I have more paper, please?").

Morgan even kept some drawings for herself, her favorite being Iron Man riding a flying unicorn. 

“I'm gonna put this in my room."

When she came back, she launched herself in Mommy's arms and kissed her on the cheek.

“Mommy, can we do this again tomorrow?” she asked. “I like reading the letters about Daddy.”

“Tomorrow? You have school tomorrow.”

“How about tomorrow’s tomorrow?”

Mommy laughed. “You know, Dad and I used to do this every Sunday.”

“Let’s do it _every_ Sunday too!” Morgan cried excitedly.

“Okay, okay.”

“Yay!”

Morgan detached herself from her mother and turned to the remaining pile of fan mail.

Pepper ran a hand over Morgan's back but it wasn't too long before the little girl had gone out again, running to tape another drawing on her bedroom wall.

Tony may be gone, Pepper thought, he may not be around to open fan mail with her, but Morgan was.

This was their new Sunday.


	9. Uncle Rhodey

There was a couple of beeps coming from behind Tony’s Audi, a grunt and then someone's voice—Morgan’s, Rhodey knew—saying, "Maybe like this?"

Another beep.

"What? I'll try again."

Rhodey rounded the car and sure enough found Morgan seated on the ground of the garage surrounded by Tony's robots, Dum-E and U.

Dum-E was holding an empty coke bottle in its claw while U held up a Stark Pad that had a YouTube video on pause.

And scattered in front of Morgan were pencils, scotchtape—was that a bottle of wine?

"Morgan, what are you doing?"

Morgan jumped in surprise. Even Dum-E drew its claw back hastily, beeping rapidly, while U whirled around.

Morgan clutched her chest. "You scared me!” and then as quickly as she was startled, she recovered and said, “Hi, Uncle Rhodey!" She waved cheerfully at him, like she hadn't just gotten caught with a bottle of Tony's expensive wine. 

"Hi," Rhodey replied slowly, crouching beside her and lifting the bottle of wine.  "Watcha doing there? You planning on drinking this by yourself?"

"No," said Morgan simply.

"Where'd you find this?"

"Over there." Morgan pointed at her dad’s wine cabinet.

"You know this is for adults, right?"

"I know! I'm not drinking it. I just need the cork." Morgan wasn’t stupid. Mommy and Daddy made her have a sip of wine once when she begged them to; she never asked for wine again after that.

That wasn’t a good enough reason for Uncle Rhodey, though, because he asked again, "What do you need the cork for?"

"The YouTube video said that I need a cork, an empty bottle, pencils, um,” she turned to U for help, eyebrows drawn as she thought back to the video, “baking soda—"

"Are you making a bomb?" Rhodey quipped. 

Morgan laughed. "No. A rocket!"

"A rocket?!"

"Yep. I'm gonna send Daddy some letters. A lot of people write him letters but he can't write them back. If I send him the letters with some paper and pencils, maybe he can!"

Morgan knew ghosts didn’t have a body but if she sent the tools up to the sky, then maybe the pencils would become ghosts too. It was worth a shot.

Uncle Rhodey's eyes softened and Morgan knew he wouldn’t try to stop her.

"Oh, wow. And who told you could get a cork from the bottle of wine?"

"Friday!”

"Friday, huh?” Uncle Rhodey glanced up at the ceiling, “Friday?"

"Yes, Colonel Rhodes?"

"You giving Morgan ideas?"

"She asked me where she could get a cork inside the house. I answered accordingly.”

Uncle Rhodey shook his head, chuckling. "Why don't you show me this YouTube video so I can help you out?"

The idea was to build a rocket using baking soda and vinegar. Rhodey understood the science behind it. He also knew it wouldn’t reach space which was where Morgan wanted it to go.

He didn’t tell her that, though, knowing it would be best to let her see that on her own.     
  
“Alright, Einstein, if we want to make this rocket blast off, we’re gonna need some safety goggles, a lab coat, some gloves—”

“What do we need those for?” Morgan interrupted. They weren’t in the video after all.

“Because we have to look cool,” Uncle Rhodey said in an exaggerated whisper.

Morgan grinned. That was good enough for her.

Properly attired (well, as proper as one could pass off using swimming goggles, jackets, and winter gloves) minutes later, Morgan and Uncle Rhodey had moved the materials from the ground to a table in the garage and were taping the pencils around the plastic bottle.

“Yeah, really wrap it around,” encouraged Uncle Rhodey.

He showed Morgan how to tape the first pencil around the bottle and let her do the last two. Dum-E held the spout of the bottle and twisted it around while Morgan enjoyed letting the tape roll over it.

Afterwards, they tested it to see if the pencils served as a proper stand for the bottle.

“What’d you think?” Uncle Rhodey asked Morgan. “Does it look stable to you?”

“Uh-huh.”

They gave each other a high-five.

“Next?”

“We design the rocket!” Morgan said.

They taped a couple of fan art around the rocket’s "body" and Uncle Rhodey helped her attach the rocket’s fins on the sides and the cone on top. They were made from her stationary pad so that Daddy would have something to write on.

“Now, it looks like a rocket.” Uncle Rhodey said, nodding in approval.

“You think Daddy’s gonna like it?” Morgan shyly asked. Now, that the rocket was actually done and she might have a chance of sending it up, she was feeling a little bit nervous.

“Are you kidding me? There’s Iron Man on the rocket!” Uncle Rhodey rubbed the top of Morgan’s head sending her in a flurry of giggles. “He’s gonna love it!”

Morgan smiled, feeling a little better. “Okay. Do you have the rocket fuel?”

Uncle Rhodey snorted. “Of course I got the rocket fuel! I’m War Machine. I always got the fuel.” He lifted up a narrow packet of tissue-wrapped baking soda. In his most theatrical voice, he said, “Let’s light this baby up.”

Morgan grinned.

They went outside to the lawn. Morgan carried the rocket and a funnel while Uncle Rhodey held the bottle of wine and a glass of vinegar.

“Houston, let’s find ourselves a nice launch pad.”

Morgan surveyed the area and found a smooth patch of grass. She looked back at her godfather who pulled out the cork from the wine bottle with his mouth, pocketed it, and then brought the bottle directly to his lips. He drank as he walked towards her.

“That’s good stuff,” he said when he reached Morgan, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Morgan wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Orange juice is better.”

“You say that now,” Uncle Rhodey retorted.

He put the wine bottle down on the ground and crouched beside Morgan.

“Okay, hold the rocket upside down, please.”

Morgan did as she was told.

“Put the funnel in, please.”

“Funnel is in.”

Uncle Rhodey poured the vinegar down the funnel.

“Now, kindly drop our rocket fuel in the bottle.”

Morgan took out the tissue covered package from her own pocket and stuffed it down the open mouth of the bottle-turned-rocket.

As soon as that was done, Uncle Rhodey hastily stuck the cork on the bottle’s opening, turned the rocket right side up and sat it on the ground, the three pencils acting as a sort of tripod stand.

He then grabbed Morgan’s hand and they backed away.

They began their countdown starting from Five but had to say “three, two, one” in a hurry because the rocket had launched itself off the ground when they were only at Four.

Morgan cheered as it soared high, meters away from them, and then… it came back down, landing unceremoniously back on the lawn.

“Oh no!” Morgan cried, running to get the rocket. She turned it over in her hands, trying to see what was wrong with it. “Uncle Rhodey!”

Uncle Rhodey slowly walked over. He looked as sad as she did, except he didn’t have tears welling up in his eyes.

“It didn’t go. Why won’t it go?” Morgan started to blink vigorously, anything to stop the tears from falling.

That didn’t work at all.

She swiped at her eyes. “I don’t know why I’m crying.” They were so close! It was up there and then it went down. 

“It won’t go because it’s not as strong as the big rockets.” Uncle Rhodey put a comforting hand on her back and said, “And it’s okay to cry.”

“We have to make a big rocket!” Morgan insisted. The tears were all wiped away now and in their place was only determination.

Uncle Rhodey put two hands on her shoulders, calming her. “Hey! It’s alright.” He nudged her chin up. “You wanted Daddy to write some letters back to those people that sent them, right?”

Morgan nodded, sniffling.

“What do you think Daddy would say in his letters?”

“He’d say he loves them tons or three thousand or one million!”

“How do you know that?”

“Because he’s Daddy and I just know!”

“Then the people know that too. Just like how _you_ know, _they know._ Trust me, they know Daddy loves them, would do anything for them, even save the world.”

Morgan looked at Uncle Rhodey, his eyes so sure and confident.

“Are you sure?” she asked him because grown ups always knew the right answer.

“ _I’m_ sure, because _you’re_ sure.”

Morgan nodded taking a deep breath. She stood up and Rhodey took her hand.

“Now, we can’t make a big enough rocket out here in your lawn. Mom’s gonna kill us if we ruin her flowers.”

That made Morgan laugh.

“What we need to do is go to NASA.”

“NASA? What’s NASA?”

“The National Anthony Stark Association of course!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go!


	10. Uncle Clint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of Clint Barton hate going around but not in this story.

Uncle Clint seemed to be catching his breath when he ran into Mommy and Morgan at the backyard where all the guests were gathered.

He kissed Pepper on the cheek. "Glad you guys could make it. Oh, thanks!" He said accepting a wrapped box from Pepper. "Laura's at the food table making sure the kids don't poke themselves with the barbecue sticks."

He turned to Morgan. "Hey, kiddo, up top!" He hovered a hand in front of her for a high-five.

Morgan shyly reciprocated.

She had the look of a kid who was excited to be at a birthday party but was quite hesitant to lose herself in the celebration since she didn't know anyone there. 

Pepper and Clint exchanged looks.

"Come on," Uncle Clint nodded to the area where all the kids seemed to be gathering, throwing balls at each other. "Peter just arrived a couple minutes ago. And I'll introduce you to the other kids. I think they're in need of one more player in their game of dodgeball."

Morgan's face lit up and she took Uncle Clint's hand, pulling him to the area. 

Uncle Clint chuckled and the next thing Morgan knew, he had hefted her over his shoulder, her head dangling.  Morgan screamed in delight. 

"I'll throw you like a dodgeball ball!"

"No!" She laughed, her legs kicking in the air. 

Uncle Clint put her down and Morgan ran, leading the way and leaving her mother and Uncle Clint behind. 

"Thanks," Pepper said to Clint.

"Don't worry. This isn't Uncle Clint's first rodeo. I'll make sure she has a great time."

Being a dad, Clint knew more than anyone how shy kids could be and how to draw them out of their shell.

They got to the middle of the field that was Clint's yard and the kids were all talking over one another. Some of them were old enough to be teenagers while the rest were children around Morgan's age. There was Peter and Wanda and also Bruce Banner looking like a giant amidst the youngsters. 

A ball flew past and hit a kid. It was a soft ball made from cloth and cotton, one of many that were currently lined on the ground. 

There was a sharp whistle and Scott Lang emerged from the throng of teenagers. "I said not yet!" cried an exasperated Scott.  “Hi, Uncle Scott!” Morgan cried excitedly, her previous reserve gone. She liked Uncle Scott a lot. She remembered his magic tricks at Daddy's funeral. They made her feel better.

Pepper hadn’t even noticed he was among the crowd, but that was probably because he acted like a kid most of the time too.

He picked up the ball on the ground, saying, “Oh, hey Morgan!" He spotted the girl and gave her a high five. This time Morgan energetically reciprocated. 

"Can I join?" she asked.

"Absolutely! You can be on my team. We were just about to start." He nodded his head at Uncle Clint and then cupped his free hand around his mouth. 

"Team Hawkeye on my left, Team Ant-Man on my right." 

At the signal, the kids dispersed.

Clint patted Pepper on her arm. "That's my cue." He began jogging away saying, "Don't worry about her. She's with the world's greatest dad. Although, Scott's like second greatest."

Pepper laughed and she heard Scott cry, "I heard that!"

She took one last look at Morgan and then went off to find her own team to hang out with. 

...

"Alright, team," said Uncle Scott, clasping his hands. "A little pre-game prayer before we start. Let’s gather round. That’s it. Get in there, Morgan.”

Morgan stood between Lila and Cassie and mimicked their pose, palms held together, eyes closed. 

"Almighty Captain America," Uncle Scott began.

Morgan cracked open one eye and said, "He’s not God."

Uncle Scott relented and said, "Almighty Thor, God of thunder and lightning, we call upon your power—"

"Are you guys ready to play or are you gonna keep on praying that you'll win?" came Uncle Clint's teasing tone from across the field. 

Whatever Uncle Scott had planned to say next was abandoned and in its place was a hasty "help us beat our enemies. Amen!"

There was a chorus of Amens from the big kids and Morgan echoed an Amen ‘cause it seemed like the right thing to do. 

"You ever played dodgeball before?" Lila asked Morgan as they took their places. 

Morgan nodded. "You throw the ball and not get hit."

"That's right."

A whistle sounded again and Morgan screamed in excitement. 

She didn't get a ball fast enough and instead jumped out of the way of flying balls. 

A ball landed beside her and she ran to grab it, flinging it hard across the field. It didn't go very far and she happily squealed.

She caught another ball and went closer this time to land a hit on Uncle Bruce who stood out not only because he was green but also because, well, he was the Hulk. 

She missed him, though, Uncle Bruce crying out a "Whoa!" as he took a step back to avoid it. The ball was picked up by Uncle Clint. 

He locked eyes with her.

Morgan screamed, running away.

"I'm gonna get you, Morgan"

"Nooo!" Morgan jumped left and then right, not knowing where to go. 

"I'll save you, Morgan!" Uncle Scott threw a ball but Uncle Clint only caught it.

"Hey! No fair! You're using your superhero powers!" said Uncle Scott and Morgan immediately studied Uncle Clint because she wanted to see what his power was. 

"It's called pure skill, Lang."

Morgan thought for a quick minute that she wanted Pure Skill too. She shook away the thought in favor of throwing another ball; she bent over to pick one up but the moment cost her. 

She got hit on the back and she screamed, laughing. 

She stood aside and watched them play, cheering for Team Ant-Man. Standing there, she was able to get a better look at how the players were doing.

Peter was dodging balls, doing backflips, Wanda was laughing as she ran and Lila was even getting a few good hits there!

Uncle Scott on the other hand… Morgan didn't know what Uncle Scott was doing. He seemed to be dancing on the field, trying to distract the "enemies."

And it was working ‘cause the kids on Team Hawkeye were giggling and Uncle Scott would then use the opportunity to hit them. 

A familiar boy got hit and joined Morgan on the side. 

"Hi, I'm Nate," he said, smiling. “You’re Morgan right?

Morgan nodded, realizing who he was. “It's your birthday! Happy birthday!"

"Thanks! Your dad's Iron Man!" Nate said, eyes wide in awe. "He's the coolest!"

Morgan bristled with pride. "Your dad's cool too. He's really good at dodgeball."

“I know! He can hit any target! Look!”

Morgan’s eyes widened in amazement as they followed Uncle Clint who  _did_  hit his targets every time—even if that target was Uncle Bruce!

Uncle Clint’s super power was awesome!

Eventually, more and more kids got hit and then it was only Uncle Scott and Uncle Clint left. 

"Distraction Plan! Distraction Plan," Uncle Scott was saying over and over again as he did some really funny dance moves, sprinting right and then back and then left, basically running and skipping all over the place.

"What's he doing?" Morgan asked Nate, mouth turned up in amusement.

"My dad never misses and I think Uncle Scott is trying to distract him."

Uncle Clint paid Uncle Scott no mind and threw. 

Morgan never saw anything like it. 

Uncle Scott dove and the ball missed him.

He triumphantly cried "HA! You missed!" at what seemed to be his victory, his eyes following the ball as it landed. 

But Uncle Clint was fast. “Made you look.” He pulled a ball out of nowhere and hit Uncle Scott. 

"Noooo!!!" Uncle Scott cried, dropping to his knees, fists shaking at the sky.

Cassie laughed at her dad, shaking her head. "He's so dramatic," she said to Morgan before running off to congratulate the winning team.

Morgan nodded, agreeing even though she had no idea what dramatic was. Daddy would say that was another Word of the Day. She filed  _dramatic_  in her head to ask Friday later. 

Team Hawkeye was jumping and cheering. Uncle Clint had Nate on his shoulders. 

Morgan joined them, clapping her hands and jumping too.

"That was so cool, Uncle Clint!” Morgan gushed at the marksman.

“How about me?” asked Uncle Scott, pouting. “ _I_  was pretty cool. Did you see my moves?”

“Yeah, but Uncle Clint has Pure Skill.” Uncle Scott choked while Uncle Clint barked a laugh. Morgan turned to the latter. “Uncle Clint, can you teach me Pure Skill too? I want to throw like that!”

Uncle Clint put Nate down who ran to do another fun activity with his friends, leaving his dad with Morgan.

"Sure thing, kid. I got just the game for you."

"Him?" cried Uncle Scott who laid a hand over his chest, pretending to be hurt. "I thought you were on  _my_ team. You're going over to the dark side? I’m gonna be sick."

Morgan giggled shamelessly and waved goodbye to Uncle Scott who was now throwing up cards. How he managed to do that, Morgan didn’t find out.

...

Uncle Clint handed her a yellow duck.

Not a real one, but a toy.

Morgan stared at it, eyebrows furrowed.

“I thought you’re going to teach me how to throw at a target.” You didn’t throw ducks… or toys. That wasn’t how you took care of your toys, thought Morgan.

“I am. That,” he pointed at the duck, “is a very dangerous weapon.”

Morgan looked at the duck in her hands again. It didn’t look dangerous.

She faced Uncle Clint. “I’m not a baby anymore, you know.”

“I know," he said, bending down to whisper, “I was also a spy. You know what that is?”

Morgan nodded. She watched Spy Kids with Daddy before and spent the whole weekend pretending they were hunting bad guys.

“Well, this,” he said, taking her duck, “is a gun. I know it doesn’t look it, but that’s what a spy wants you to think so that you won’t get scared when you see the duck gun.”

Morgan gave him another skeptical look, one eyebrow raised.

Uncle Clint shrugged. “Well, if you don’t want it…” he made the move of walking away from her and Morgan reacted.

“I want it!” She grabbed the duck and looked at it really hard straight in the eyes, like that would somehow make it appear more dangerous. “What’s it do?”

“Press the orange button.”

Morgan did as he said and elicited a small cry when water shot out of the duck’s beak and straight at her face.

Uncle Clint laughed. “I told you it was a gun!”

Morgan recovered, wiping the water off her face. She laughed as she realized, “It’s a water gun!”

“Yep! You got it!” Uncle Clint then revealed his own gun, a chameleon this time. “Lesson number 1: aim.”

“Aim?” asked Morgan, following Uncle Clint to a wooden stand where targets were hanging from. Right nearby was a table where you could refill the water in your gun using a dispenser. There were similarly disguised water guns in a basket beside it.

“We,” began Uncle Clint, brandishing his chameleon, “are going to use these water guns and try to hit those targets.”

Morgan drew her back straight in preparation.

Uncle Clint made her stand three feet away from the targets. He made her close one eye too.

“To help you focus,” he said.

He positioned Morgan’s arms as she aimed her duck at a target.

“Okay, now, fire!”

Morgan pressed and the water came shooting out of her duck and almost hit the target.

Morgan grinned, jumping. “Did you see that? Did you see that? I almost hit it!”

Uncle Clint gave her a high-five. “You know, if you give your duck a long press, a stream of water is gonna come out. Watch where that water’s going and adjust your hand so you can bring the water close to the target.”

Morgan did as she was told and was pleased to find that that technique was better than simply aiming and firing. The stream of water acted like a guide, similar to how she and her friends played laser tag on her fifth birthday.

Uncle Clint continued to teach her other stuff, like how to hold her duck properly or how to stand. He reminded Morgan a lot of Daddy whenever he taught her something new in the garage.

They refilled the water in her duck when it ran out and went a couple more rounds.

Soon, she was hitting the duck at her fifth or sixth try and that was apparently good enough because Uncle Clint said, “Nice job, Hawkeye!”

“I’m not Hawkeye!” Morgan said, shaking her head. “I’m Nebula, space warrior!” Well, sometimes she was, Morgan thought. Other times, she also pretended to be Spider Girl. Yesterday she was Rescue.

Uncle Clint laughed, relenting. “Okay, Guardian of the Galaxy. Why don’t you get some more water for your duck?”

Morgan turned to the water station and started to fill her duck with water.

Just as she twisted the cap closed, Uncle Clint ran over to her and pulled her down to the ground, crouching behind the water station.

“Shh,” he said, a mischievous look in his eye that told Morgan they were now playing a game. But what, she didn’t know.

“What are we doing?” Morgan asked, putting on an equally mischievous face.

Uncle Clint put a finger to his lips and whispered, “Ant-Man’s going to pass us in a few seconds and we’re gonna ambush him with our water guns.”

Morgan nodded excitedly. This was like a battle and it was time to be a space warrior.

Uncle Clint held up three fingers.

Morgan resisted the urge to look at where Uncle Scott might pass lest she risk getting seen. She was great at hide-and-seek for a reason.

Uncle Clint held up two fingers.

Morgan giddily bit her lower lip in suspense, stifling a giggle that was threatening to come out.

Uncle Clint held up one finger.

Morgan held her breath.

And then Uncle Clint jumped out from his hiding spot, Morgan following close behind.

“AAAH!” Uncle Scott cried, clutching his chest in a very funny way as Morgan and Uncle Clint barraged him with a rain of water.

“I’ll get you for this, Frogeye!”

“It’s a chameleon, Lang,” Uncle Clint said, letting a final squirt of water land on Ant-Man.

Finally given a reprieve, Uncle Scott looked at Morgan, a devilish smile on his face.

Morgan started to squeal.

“RUN MORGAN!” said Uncle Clint. “I’ll distract him!”

Morgan ran while Uncle Scott quickly grabbed another water gun from the basket and chased after her.

Morgan ran past Nate and she grabbed his hand. “Come on, come on! He’s coming!” She pulled him behind a tree and used the moment to catch her breath.

“Who’s coming?”

Morgan never got to reply because Uncle Scott’s voice rang loud and clear, “WATER FIGHT!”

That seemed to be the magic word because as soon as Uncle Scott said it, all the kids starting shouting and grabbing the closest thing to a water gun they could get—water bottles, cups still filled with juice.

“Water fight?” came a voice from the drinks table.

Morgan turned and watched as Sam threw what was left of his drink at Peter's shoes. Sam laughed loudly and then ran away.

Peter dropped the sandwich he was holding back to his plate and then chased after the man. "JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE CAPTAIN AMERICA NOW DOESN'T MEAN I'LL GO EASY ON YOU!"

Uncle Bucky and Grandpa Steve stood laughing at the side.

Beside the drinks table was the food table where Mommy, Aunt Laura, and Aunt Hope were hanging out too. They groaned upon seeing what was happening but didn’t seem to be too mad because they were still smiling.

From her hiding place behind the tree, Morgan also saw Cassie run back to the water station and grab the basket of water guns, tossing them at everyone who asked. One of them was Wanda. 

Suddenly, there was a sharp whistle and everybody stopped what they were doing to see Uncle Clint holding up two flags. Uncle Scott jogged over to him and they exchanged a few words.

And then, they addressed gathered birthday guests. “Alright, listen up. First one who gets the other team’s flag wet wins! Choose your team wisely.”

“Team Ant-Man, your base is at the Water Station. Team Hawkeye, our base is at the tree house.”

All the kids immediately followed their chosen team leaders.

Morgan chose to be on Team Hawkeye this time and she and Nate ran to join Uncle Clint who was giving out tasks. One boy was tasked to circle Team Ant-Man’s base while another was told to be the water guy and refill water guns when needed. Lila was tasked to squirt at any enemy she saw. Sam was gonna go and be a distraction for the other team, and on and on it went.

“I’ll go distract Cooper!” Nate volunteered, running and leaving Morgan behind.

“How about me? What do _I_ do?” Morgan asked Uncle Clint when everyone had gone.

“You,” Uncle Clint said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You’re the only person I trust to get the job done.”

“What job?”

“You have to protect me.”

“But I’m not very good at hitting my targets. I still don’t have Pure Skill.” They only started practicing a while ago!

Uncle Clint shook his head. “It’s not about Pure Skill, Morg. It’s about trust and I trust you to protect me with everything you’ve got.”

Steeling her emotions, Morgan nodded. “I’ll do it. Let’s win this thing.”

…

“Look at you! You’re all wet!”

Morgan stopped a foot away from where her mother was seated. She was damp and red from the water fight.

Mommy reached over and took Morgan’s arm, pulling her close. She wrung out Morgan’s hair.

“It was so fun!” Morgan cried, chest heaving up and down as her mother then started to dab a napkin on her face.

“Did you win?”

Morgan shook her head but beamed. “Uncle Bucky got our flag.”

“So, are you ready to go home now?”

Morgan shook her head. “No! I want to play some more. Water, please.”

Mommy raised a brow. “What, your water gun ran out of water already?”

“It’s for me, not the duck,” Morgan said.

“Oh, why didn’t you say so? Here. Drink from mine.”

Morgan drank from Mommy’s glass in a hurry and then left with a hasty “Thanks!”

“No kiss?” Mommy cried after her.

“Moooom, not now!”

Pepper, Laura, and Hope laughed at Morgan’s retreating form.

“She’s got to be the luckiest kid in the world,” said Hope, settling her beer on the table.

“How so?” Pepper asked. A dead dad hardly counted as lucky.

“Well, look at her. She’s got, what, 5 dads out there on the field and half a dozen siblings? When my mom left, I had nobody which was ironic ‘cause my dad was alive.”

Suddenly, water sprayed all over the women causing them all to squeal and shout.

“Scott!” Hope yelled, grabbing her beer as a weapon and jumping out of her chair to run after him.

“And now, Morgan’s got one mom out on the field,” said Laura, catching Pepper’s eye. “I think I’m gonna add to that number. Wanna join? We can go and take out the garden hose.”

Pepper cocked her head in thought for a minute before getting up.

They walked to the greenhouse, Hope’s words ringing in Pepper's ear. 

Morgan had family that extended beyond blood and genetics.

Looking at her now, piggybacked on Wanda and firing water at everyone who even looked at her direction, sounds of shrieks and laughter filling the air…

 _We’ll be alright,_ was Pepper’s last words to Tony.

And they were.

They _all_ were.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clint should be in jail, I know, but then we wouldn't have this chapter. 
> 
> This ends Extended Family! Thanks for reading!


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